New World, New Love (16 page)

‘Pieter won’t let the ship sail without me.’ Her voice was still strange. They passed through the harbour gates, the coachman stopping only for William to enquire from which wharf the van Dorne ship would be sailing. Then on they went again, the wheels rattling over the cobbles. There was plenty of activity everywhere in the lantern light, the vessels looming large as they passed by. When they reached the van Dorne berth Delphine leapt out of the carriage only to stand staring in disbelief at the ship sailing away in the moonlight. Then, before William could stop her, she hurled herself with a piercing scream into the water.

D
elphine did not take long to recover physically from her ordeal, but mentally was a different matter. William and a sailor had dived in to save her, and others had come to help them get back up on to the wharf. Then the sailor had kicked over a barrel to throw her limp body across it, face down, and pump the water out of her in the time-honoured way of the sea until she coughed and spluttered as it gushed from her mouth. Louise had just returned home when William arrived, carrying her sister in his arms, wrapped in his coat, her wet hair streaming down like dark copper silk with a single strand of seaweed entangled in it. As he was leaving again, neither he nor Louise noticed that Delphine overheard him tell Louise of the lie he had told her.

As the days went by Delphine, listless and apathetic, went for hours without speaking, only ever answering in monosyllables. Louise became increasingly anxious about her. Such silence was distressingly unnatural in a normally garrulous girl, and there was no question yet of her returning to work.

Adding to the change in her, Delphine had stubbornly taken over all the household chores and the marketing, whereas previously she had always been reluctant to do her full share. It was as if she needed to be busy every minute to keep from remembering. Although she was up first every morning to prepare breakfast and always had a meal ready when Louise came home, she scarcely touched food herself and became visibly thinner until the simple clothes she wore daily began to hang on her. Monsieur Rousselot, who had been told that Delphine was unwell, sent word to ask when she would be returning. Delphine only shook her head at the letter and let it drop on to the table.

‘I never want to dance again,’ she said dully in the longest sentence she had used to date.

Louise was at a loss to know how best to help her recover her spirits. Previously there had been rarely a day when Delphine had not played her flute, but now it lay neglected in its box and was never touched. Louise decided that the only solution would be to get her away from New York, with its painful memories. There were plenty of other cities, maybe even Washington itself, where already people were buying some of the newly built properties, and there should be plenty of opportunities for her as an experienced milliner. It would be exciting to live in the very heart of this new nation. By selling one of her most valuable pieces of jewellery, she could even finance a small dancing school for Delphine. But for the present she would accept Alexandre and Blanche’s long-standing invitation to stay with them, which would give Delphine the chance to fully recover in the country air.

She went to see Monsieur Rousselot on Delphine’s behalf. He was understanding and expressed his hope that Delphine would soon be well again, but it was a different matter when Louise gave Miss Sullivan notice of her departure. As she had expected, the milliner was furious that she would be leaving on the brink of the summer season, no matter what the reason.

‘This time there will be no coming back when it suits you!’ the woman declared fiercely, handing over Louise’s wages. ‘Goodbye to you.’

Quite unexpectedly Alexandre came himself in answer to the letter that Louise had sent, turning up on the doorstep with a beaming smile. ‘I’ve combined a business trip with the pleasure of escorting you both back to the farm with me,’ he announced, hiding his private shock at Delphine’s emaciated appearance, having last seen her in France as a healthy, pretty child. ‘Blanche can hardly wait for your arrival. She’s been baking and preparing ever since your letter came, and so, if you’re ready and packed, we’ll leave tomorrow.’

Louise had withdrawn her jewellery and her small amount of savings from the bank and had only to hand the apartment keys to the landlord. She had also said farewell to Richard and to others whom she knew would miss her, with promises exchanged to keep in touch. A stallholder from the market had bought the furniture and all else that she had thought pointless to take with them. With their clothes and possessions packed into two trunks and a wooden box, they set off with Alexandre for the country, leaving New York behind them.

The voyage on a sloop up the great Hudson river took over twenty-four hours and was a holiday in itself to Louise, although Delphine spent most of the time in the cabin that they shared, showing no interest in anything. The weather could not have been better – very warm, with a soft breeze – and when Louise was on deck with Alexandre, or eating a meal with him by a saloon window, she was enthralled by the passing scenery. It was a panoramic vista of lush foliage, thick forests ancient as time, clustering blossoms in a variety of colours, mountain slopes and sheer rocky precipices. When the sloop called in at one of the small towns along the way there was the chance to buy moccasins and beadwork from women of one of the tribes whom Louise thought of as the true-born Americans. Their quiet dignity and the proud, straight-backed stance of their men, waiting a short distance away, filled her with admiration.

When the time came to disembark, it was late morning on a day full of sunshine. Waiting for them was a horse and carriage, brought by a strongly built man, whom Alexandre addressed as George. He was a freed slave and one of several farmhands whom Alexandre employed.

‘My pleasure, ma’am,’ George said when Louise thanked him as he handed her up to sit beside Alexandre, who had taken the reins. Delphine said nothing when he assisted her. He had been quick to load up the luggage and sat on one of the trunks as they set off for the farm, which was only a mile away and encompassed many acres of pasture, cropland and forest.

As they drew near the farmhouse, Blanche came running to meet them, her flower-printed skirt billowing about her. Her delicately shaped face with the lustrous brown eyes and high arched brows, which gave her the look of being perpetually amazed at life’s goodness to her, was alight with joy. Some tendrils of her blue-black hair danced from their pins as she approached, her arms outstretched in welcome. Louise sprang down from the carriage without waiting for George’s helping hand and rushed into a shared embrace, both of them almost overcome by their reunion, and they kissed each other on both cheeks in the French manner.

‘You’re here at last!’ Blanche exclaimed thankfully as they drew apart to laugh together in their happiness. ‘I can’t begin to tell you how much I’ve been longing for your visit.’ She turned eagerly to Delphine and kissed her too, seeming not to notice a lack of response. ‘How wonderful to have you here! I want so much for you to feel at home with us.’ She stepped back and flung her arms wide in exhilaration. ‘You are both more welcome than the flowers in May, as we used to say to each other in France long ago.’

Arm in arm with Louise, Blanche led the way up to the farmhouse while Delphine followed behind with Alexandre, who pointed out various landmarks to her, undaunted by her lack of interest. He and his wife had been well prepared by Louise’s letter for the state she was in and they both intended to do their best for her.

Louise studied the farmhouse with interest as they approached. It stood on a rise, giving it a fine view in all directions. She had expected it to be a log cabin, having glimpsed so many along the river banks, but this was a large single-storey house, built of wood, its clapboards white and the door a cheerful red, as were the window frames and shutters. A shady veranda encompassed it on all sides.

‘What a charming house!’ she exclaimed.

‘This wasn’t our first home here,’ Blanche explained. ‘There was just a little log cabin when we came, but as soon as the land was in order, Alexandre had our new house built on this site. It gives a view of the river and I love it.’ Then she spotted her daughter’s face at one of the windows. ‘There’s Henrietta! She was too shy to come with me to meet you, but that won’t last. She is used to people constantly coming on business or socially.’

Louise waved to the child, who promptly disappeared, but as they took the steps up to the house, Henrietta had come to the door. She had the confidence and self-assurance of the much-loved child and she stared up at Louise, her eyes more golden than brown, her piquant little face pink-cheeked and framed by a cloud of russet hair that matched her father’s.

‘Bonjour, madame,’ she said, her words singularly articulate for her three and a half years, and she held out her hand. ‘Come with me. I’ll show you to your room. It’s very pretty. Papa has painted it pink for you.’

Louise was enchanted by her and took her proffered hand. ‘How kind of you, Henrietta, but first of all I’d like you to meet Delphine.’ She had hoped her sister would at least smile at the child, but Delphine only glanced at her and then away again.

Louise let the child guide her to the bedroom while Blanche took charge of Delphine. It smelt of new paint and new fabric, the gauzy white drapes at the window still crisp in their folds. There was a door that opened to the veranda, as had every other room in the house. Through the window she could see an orchard and beyond that was a wide stretch of woodland.

‘You live in a beautiful place, Henrietta,’ Louise said as she removed her hat and cloak. ‘Do you have many playmates?’

‘Betsy is my best friend.’ Henrietta had perched on the edge of the bed, swinging her legs to and fro. ‘We share her baby sister and my pony and the cat and five new kittens and my duck and my toys.’

‘Where does Betsy live?’

‘In the cabin that was our home once. George is Betsy’s papa and Maria her mama.’ Then the child’s eyes widened in delight as Louise took from her tapestry bag the doll that she had bought in New York. ‘Is she for me?
Merci
!’

‘What name shall you give her?’

Henrietta slithered down from the bed to hug the doll to her and kiss its painted wooden face. ‘Sophie! It’s such a pretty name.’

At that point George appeared with a trunk balanced on his shoulder. Henrietta, although she had been prattling away in French, immediately switched to English. ‘Where’s Betsy? I want to show her our new doll!’

He lowered the trunk and smiled at her as he set it down by the wall. ‘You’ll find her in the kitchen.’

The child went running off, followed by George on his way to bring in the rest of the luggage. A few minutes later Blanche appeared in the doorway. Louise, tidying her hair in front of the mirror, turned towards her.

‘You’re bringing your daughter up to be bilingual and, even more important, unselfish,’ she said admiringly.

‘We’re doing our best. Alexandre is determined that none of the bad old ways of the French aristocracy shall contaminate our lives here.’

‘How wise you both are!’

‘Let me show you the rest of the house. Delphine is coming too.’

Delphine followed them through the pleasant rooms, all simply and comfortably furnished, and they ended the tour in the large kitchen. There Louise met George’s wife, Maria, a good-looking woman, also a freed slave, who helped Blanche in the house. Her baby, only three months old, was asleep in a home-made basket cot in which Maria carried her to the farmhouse every day.

‘Luckily Lily is a good baby and doesn’t interfere with my work very much,’ she said to Louise.

Blanche, leaning over the cot, glanced up over her shoulder with a smile. ‘We love having a baby in the house again. Henrietta and Betsy will have this little one to play with them too later on.’

‘Where are the girls now?’ Louise asked.

She nodded towards the window. ‘They’re outside with the new doll.’

Louise looked out and saw the two children, one head as dark as the other was coppery, changing the doll’s frock for another out of a basket of tiny clothes.

Blanche gave a little laugh. ‘They’ll play for hours there, but don’t think it’s always like that. They’re like two squabbling kittens sometimes. Now it’s time you and Delphine had some refreshment after your journey. I can see that Maria has everything almost ready.’

The light and delicious meal was served in the dining room, where the wallpaper had a design of green leaves on a white background, which gave it an airy, open-air look, aided by the sunshine penetrating the slatted blinds. Delphine scarcely touched the food and sat silent the whole time. Blanche would have shown her concern, but having been forewarned, she made no comment.

Louise was surprised to find how many of her titled countrymen and women had settled within the vicinity. Some had bought farms, others had started their own small businesses in Albany and Troy, the two nearest towns, just as they had done in New York. As a result, Blanche and Alexandre’s social life was far more active than she had ever expected, and her friends were a welcoming host and hostess whenever they entertained.

Although it was a peaceful area, Alexandre had never been easy in his mind when he had had to leave Blanche on her own for any length of time, for peddlers and tramps often came to the farm door on their travels. Not all of them were to be trusted. There had been cases of rape and it was for that reason he had taught her how to handle a gun. Now that Louise was under his roof he thought it advisable to teach her to shoot too. He was a patient instructor and she was quick to learn, having a steady hand and eye. Before long she excelled at hitting the target that he set up.

To Louise’s intense disappointment Delphine remained locked in her room whenever there were visitors, no matter how merry the gatherings must have sounded to her in her isolation. Few people ever saw her, although, knowing of her presence, some included her in their invitations, but she was adamant in refusing all of them. She also retained her silence as one week and then another went by. She was still only picking at food and seemed to get thinner every day.